


"Is That A Farmers Market?"

by roonilbwazlib



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco, Cheese toasties, Child Scorpius, Dating, Drabbles, Draco's redemption, Drastoria, Drastoria fluff, F/M, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Happy Ending, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Malfoy Family, Malfoy feels, Muggle cafe, Not much plot, Picnics, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Pregnant! Astoria, Romance, Sweets they help you make friends, Teenage Draco, The Malfoys - Freeform, background mention of Astoria's blood curse, courting, farmers market, how Draco and Astoria met, is that a farmers market, no angst here sir not today, st James park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24925684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roonilbwazlib/pseuds/roonilbwazlib
Summary: "As they were both walking back towards wizarding London at the end of the day, Astoria had asked if he was free the very next day - she knew it was technically ‘his turn’ to arrange a date, but she’d already made plans to go to what she called a ‘Farmer’s Market’ in the morning, and she very much wanted him to come along. Draco didn’t have plans - he never had plans, really, except for work, as he’d distanced himself from most of his old friends after the war - and although he had no idea what a Farmer’s Market was, he’d agreed on the spot."If anyone’s in the market (pun 100% intended) for some fluffy Malfoy fam feels (and hunger pangs!), I’ve written three lil’ drabbles inspired by Draco’s third greatest love.Featuring cheese toasties, cheeky smiles, sweet stalls and sticky buns - and no plot whatsoever. Pre-CC but CC compliant!
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say about this little drabble collection except that I have been obsessed with Draco's obsession with Farmers Markets for years, and I wanted to play around with that! I also wanted to dip my toe into writing about the Malfoys and see what the Draco and Astoria who live in my head look like on paper. 
> 
> I'm slowly carving out who my characters are and finding their voices and backgrounds, so like "Five Times..." this isn't really a plot driven fic - just a series of little scenarios and headcanons I felt like exploring, and which I may or may not use in a bigger piece further down the line! I also may add a few more here and there.... maybe!!
> 
> The timeline and content is Cursed Child compliant, although my drabbles (currently) begin and end before the play kicks off.

Draco adjusted his collar for the fifth time, glared at his reflection for the sixth, and finally gave up with a sigh. His hands didn’t seem like they were on his side today - along with his hair, his wardrobe, and time itself.

If he didn’t know better, and hadn’t worked so hard since the war to move away from painting himself as a victim, he’d have accused the entire world of conspiring against him. He was perilously close to being late for his third date with Astoria, a date that he wanted to go well more than he’d ever wanted - well, anything, if he’s honest. The third date, according to modern Pureblood custom, was when both parties made their intentions clear to each other - it was make or break, as far as an ongoing official relationship was concerned, and Draco desperately wanted this one to be a ‘make’.

He hadn’t dared hope he would find someone like Astoria, not after what he’d done and who he’d been - he knew full well what he deserved, and what most of wizarding society believed he deserved. He hadn’t expected to meet anyone willing to even entertain the idea of dating Draco Malfoy, at least not for a few decades to come - but here he was, just two years after the war, scarcely able to believe he was a free man, let alone someone’s man. Here he was, about to have a third date with Astoria Greengrass - someone so far out of Draco’s league he had to pinch himself every time he remembered their first two dates, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming them up.

He hadn’t been looking to date, hadn’t even been looking for friendship. He was solely focused on being the man Harry Potter, of all people, had sworn he could be at his trial - for Harry’s word had kept Draco out of Azkaban, and although he still doesn’t know why Harry did it, Draco knows he owes the Chosen One his life. And when someone like Harry Potter gives you a second chance - well, you don’t waste it. Draco walked out of the Ministry that day determined to do the work, to better himself - to make Potter and everyone else in that courtroom feel comfortable that they’d made the right choice in letting go free. He wasn’t under any illusion that there were wizards, witches and entire families who’d have happily seen him rot in Azkaban along with his Father, and he wanted to prove to them that he could change - he was prepared to spend his whole life proving it to them.

He was almost two years into his reparations when he met Astoria - or bumped into her, more accurately - in an unassuming Muggle cafe just outside of Diagon Alley. Draco chose to frequent Muggle London in his lunch breaks, so he could spend one hour of every day free from watchful eyes and expectation, free from constantly checking himself, and free from second guessing what he said and did. He was grateful to have his job as an assistant at Cresswell’s Potion Supplies; really, it was a better position than someone in his position usually landed themselves - but although he was happy to do it, and although he was committed to doing it, proving himself to be hardworking and humble every single day to the hundreds of witches and wizards who came through the shop doors was exhausting. He couldn’t ever relax in Diagon Alley, and wasn’t ever sure he was actually welcome, even now - so he chose to eat in Muggle establishments at lunchtimes, where nobody knew him or cared what he ordered or minded where he sat.

The day he met Astoria was an otherwise unassuming Tuesday; run of the mill, nothing to report. Draco was exhausted - he’d spent all morning restocking uncut Boomslang skins, and Sweet Salazar were they heavy - so he wasn’t feeling particularly bright or switched on as he pushed through the haphazard tables to get to the counter of the little cafe he’d walked towards on autopilot. He’d almost reached the front when he felt his foot tread on something small and soft, and heard a surprised voice breath “ouch!” next to his left ear.

Looking down, Draco realised he’d accidentally stepped on a fellow customer’s foot; a foot which was only wearing a delicate leather sandal and so had taken the full brunt of his protective work boots. Draco had looked up immediately in the direction where the “ouch” had come from, apologies already falling seamlessly from his lips - and found that the foot belonged to one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life. 

Unexpectedly, the woman had actually laughed as soon as she caught his eye, and Draco had just stared at her, confused - until she’d said his name, and he’d stared some more, and she’d laughed again, and introduced herself as Astoria Greengrass.

Draco had faintly recognised the surname, he was sure the Greengrasses had attended one of the summer garden parties at the Manor when he was still a child - but he was certain hadn’t seen any of them for years, and he was also certain he would have remembered Astoria if he had.

Waving away his garbled sorrys, Astoria had insisted he come and join her at her table after getting his food, and, feeling he still owed her an apology, he had purchased a small glazed bun alongside his sandwich and brought it back for her. Astoria had grinned again - she really did have the most infectious smile Draco had ever seen, it lit up her whole face - before diving in, pulling the soft pastry apart with her fingers. Her eyes never left Dracos as she talked. She’d explained that the cafe was her favourite, that she often spent more time in Muggle society than wizarding, because the conversations she overheard were more interesting - and Draco hadn’t known what to make of that; or what to make of her. She talked non-stop, not seeming to mind that Draco barely got a word in edgeways, and obviously not caring that he was a Malfoy.

As he finished his sandwich, and Astoria paused whatever she was saying to take a long gulp of tea, Draco had asked her about it - asked her why she was so content to spend time with him, to be seen talking to him. She’d laughed again then - it was one of the happiest sounds Draco had ever heard - and told him not to be silly. She’d known he wasn’t like his father from the start, she’d said - she could tell he’d just needed a bit of time, to grow up and grow apart from his family, and grow into the man she knew was underneath.

She’d admired the way he’d thrown himself into work after the war, keeping his head down and walking the walk rather than talking the talk. And - and her smile had practically taken on a life of it’s own at this point - she’d always thought he was devilishly handsome as a girl, and was pleased to report he was even more attractive now he didn’t “walk around as if there was dung under his nose every time he went outside”. Draco had sputtered at that, not quite knowing what to say - and Astoria had delighted in his reaction, chuckling at the blush that had risen up his cheeks.

She was like nobody else he’d ever met, and certainly unlike everybody he’d ever met from polite Pureblood society. Eating Muggle food, in a Muggle cafe (with her hands and not a fork!), teasing a man she’d just met and openly referencing his murkier past - no, Astoria was different, and once Draco had got over the shock over somebody recognising him and still wanting to talk to him, he’d found he was enjoying himself. Enjoying her company. A lot. Plus, as he’d noticed straight away - Astoria was beautiful. Soft brown curls fell just past her shoulders, and were held off her face by a mint green velvet hair band. Her light green eyes sparkled under the trendy cafe lights, and a smattering of freckles danced their way across her nose, which scrunched up every time she laughed.

It was only when Astoria bent down to retrieve something from her handbag that Draco noticed the clock on the wall behind her, which had very resolutely said he was very late in getting back to work. Jumping up with yet another apology, Draco had garbled something about his job, and Astoria had looked up at him and nodded, smiling. She’d pushed the thing she’d taken out of her bag into his hand, and told him to call her if he wanted, when he had an evening free so they could continue to catch up. 

Draco hadn’t been aware before today that he had anything to catch Astoria Greengrass up on, but he couldn’t deny he wanted to see her again, desperately. He’d taken her card and put it carefully in his pocket, promising to write to her and arrange a suitable time.

That next dinner meeting had been their first official date, although Draco didn’t know it at the time. They’d met in a pub, a Muggle one again, that Draco liked to go to for a no-frills roast. Had he realised it was a date, he might have chosen somewhere fancier - but Astoria had loved the pub immediately, and once again had launched into a myriad of jokes and stories and anecdotes, leaving him to listen and nod and smile and wonder how the hell he even ended up sitting there with someone like her.

At the end of the night, Draco had gone to shake hands, wanting to acknowledge their tentatively blooming friendship physically - but Astoria had laughed, grabbed his hand and then pulled him in towards her. She’d pecked him on the cheek, that salacious grin widening at his look of surprise, and told him that she’d contact him next time, to arrange their “second” date. Draco had gone along with it, swept up by her confidence and genuine seeming interest in him, and a few days later they’d met for a picnic in St James’ Park. Over sausage rolls and slightly warm fizz, Astoria had kissed him properly, and Draco had felt a warm swooping sensation in his stomach that had nothing to do with eating slightly dubious looking hummus.

As they were both walking back towards wizarding London at the end of the day, Astoria had asked if he was free the very next day - she knew it was technically ‘his turn’ to arrange a date, but she’d already made plans to go to what she called a ‘Farmer’s Market’ in the morning, and she very much wanted him to come along. Draco didn’t have plans - he never had plans, really, except for work, as he’d distanced himself from most of his old friends after the war - and although he had no idea what a Farmer’s Market was, he’d agreed on the spot.

Now, it was ten minutes before he was due to meet Astoria in somewhere called Oval, and he still hadn’t got his outfit right - he had no idea what to wear to a Sunday morning date, let alone one at a venue he had no experience in - and nothing he put on looked quite right. 

Sighing again, he ran his fingers through his hair one last time and gave his collar up as a bad job - he’d have to do, because he really, really had to leave now if he didn’t want to keep Astoria waiting. And he really, really didn’t want to do that. He felt like he’d waited for her his whole life, even though he hadn’t known it until now - and he didn’t want to waste a single second of their time together, now he’d found her.

He really hoped that whatever happened at this Farmer’s Market, and whatever she thought of his ridiculous outfit, she’d want to see him again - officially. As his girlfriend. He certainly didn’t want to assume, even after the success of their previous dates - because spending time with Draco Malfoy and dating Draco Malfoy were two very different things - however, the small hopeful part of him that seemed to grow whenever he saw her suspected that Astoria might have made her choice in that cafe, the very first day they met.

He’d certainly made his.


	2. Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is a bit shorter than the first - I had to get Drastoria off the ground in that one! - but it's fun and sweet and I hope you enjoy it. Imagining how loved and wanted Scorpius was before he was even born gives me such fluffy feels! Also, Draco as an oblivious hipster is totally canon.
> 
> CW: I mention Astoria's blood curse here, but only in passing, and not in depth.

“Ooof” Astoria grimaced, rubbing her hand over her huge bump. “Malfoy Junior can smell that fresh sourdough, and they want it. They want it bad.”

“Of course they do”, Draco smiled, glancing down lovingly at his unborn child. “Malfoys have taste.”

“It’s not their taste I’m complaining about, it’s their feet. Little one has a mean kick.”

Astoria clenched her teeth as the strange feeling intensified, and Draco looked around for a quiet spot. 

“Here, why don’t you sit down for a few minutes? Rest your own feet. I’ll go and check out that bakery stall and bring back the thing that smells the best.”

Smiling gratefully, Astoria allowed Draco to steer her through a gap in the crowds, before lowering herself down onto a bench. It had been a mad idea, coming to the Farmers Market at nine months pregnant - she knew how popular it was, and how crowded and hot things could get - but she’d been visiting this patch of London almost every Sunday since she left Hogwarts, and she wasn’t about to stop now. She knew that when the baby finally arrived, she’d be too tired to leave the house for a few months at least, and so she was making the most of her favourite things, events and places whilst she still could.

Everyone had advised her against the pregnancy, including, at the beginning, Draco himself. Her body was weak enough already, no matter how much she refused to let the curse dominate her life, and putting herself through nine months of exhaustion followed by the actual act of giving birth might very well finish her off. She knew this, even though she liked to pretend she didn’t. She knew this, but she chose to do it anyway - and honestly, if anyone was surprised, then they didn’t know Astoria Greengrass very well at all.

Astoria Malfoy now. She smiled, stroking her bump, which had mercifully stopped trying to attack her from the inside out. Her wedding to Draco a couple of years ago had been the happiest day of her life; but not because of all the mushy reasons other people said that for. For one day, she’d been able to forget everything bad and stressful and worrying and painful in her life, and focus only on Draco - her husband - and their union.

Despite everything, he’d wanted her as much as she wanted him. On paper, they had baggage - enough baggage between them to furnish a high end hotel - but on that day, none of it had mattered. Draco wasn’t a former Death Eater, he was a nervous, generous and brave man, excited to marry his sweetheart. Astoria wasn’t a cursed blood traitor, just a bride who couldn’t stop grinning at the love and joy and promise that a wedding held.

They’d had a quiet ceremony, against convention. Just Astoria’s parents, her sister Daphne, a couple of school friends and Draco’s mother. Lucius had refused to come; opposing the match. Astoria couldn’t have cared less, and more importantly, neither could Draco. They day he’d defied his Father and moved in with Astoria was the day she knew this was it, for her - to see Draco finally cut ties with the man who’d made his life a living hell was the greatest gift he could ever have given to her, their future and himself. She had seen Draco grow and change, knew that there was a kinder, gentler, funnier person under all the shutters and layers he’d used for self-preservation - and over the months they’d been together at that point, she’d seen more and more of the shutters open for good. 

She only hoped Narcissa would one day follow Draco’s lead, and escape Lucius’s clutches for good. She had nothing against her mother-in law, not any more, and she knew how much Narcissa meant to Draco. Losing his father was a cross he willingly beared, but she knew he wouldn’t be able to cut ties with his mother in the same way. Luckily, Narcissa had grown bolder and braver herself since the war, and had soon made it clear that she disagreed with her husband and appreciated Draco’s choice of partner. She would remain in their lives, although at a slight distance, and under the sworn oath to never discuss Lucius in Draco’s presence, or vice versa.

Astoria was also glad that Lucius had no bearing in their lives for another reason - this reason, nine months in the making. She knew of the pressure on Pureblood families to produce an heir and continue the lineage, and whilst she’d always known she’d wanted children, she wanted Draco to want them too - for themselves, for their family, and for their love - and not because he felt an obligation to the Malfoy name. Lucius, she was sure, would have put the pressure on immediately after the wedding if he’d remained in their lives. At least this way, the decision had been hers to broach, and hers and Draco’s to discuss, with no hidden or assumed agenda.

Despite the risks and Draco’s initial reservations, they’d both wanted a child for its own sake, and for themselves. And, if Astoria was totally honest, she’d also wanted a child so that Draco still had a companion and reminder of their life together after she’d gone. She knew how easy it was to fall into the black hole when you were alone and grieving, and she was scared what her inevitable death would do to the man Draco had come. At least now, their son or daughter would continue to be his light in the darkness long after she’d left them.

Right now, their unborn child was working up to another big kick, and Astoria’s stomach grumbled in tandem. She tried to peer through the crowds, wondering where Draco had got to before she saw him, veering his way back around the stalls towards her with two steaming cheese toasties clutched in his hands.

Handing her the biggest one, he sat down next to her, blowing on a slither of molten cheddar which threatened to drop right onto the floor if he didn’t eat it in the next 30 seconds.

“Mmmmmmmm,” Astoria groaned, her own mouth already full of tangy cheese and sweet red onion. “These are unreal. Good choice, husband.”

“The cheese is made locally, apparently. As well as the bread. And the onions are from that stall down there,” Draco mumbled, pointing whilst licking his lips. “They were very proud of their ‘zero airmile credentials’, whatever that means.”

Astoria laughed, nudging her husband with her elbow. “We’ll make a hipster of you yet, Mr Malfoy.”

“A hipflask? What would I want with another hipflask? I have seven already!” Draco looked baffled. “And what’s so funny?”

Astoria had thrown her head back and was properly snorting now. She was glowing, and Draco thought she’d never looked so beautiful.

“Never mind, it’s nothing. You’re just too funny.” Astoria wiped her eyes, taking another huge bite of her toastie to prevent her dissolving into giggles again. 

Draco’s mouth twitched. He got the feeling she was laughing at him, but he couldn’t help but smile along. Seeing Astoria look so happy and so healthy was a gift - a gift that he’d never stop being grateful for, for as long as he lived. He couldn’t wait for their little one to join them any day now.


	3. Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is a short one, and I've stolen a few lines from Cursed Child - how could I resist, when they're as sweet as Scorpius's sweets!
> 
> I just want to give him a hug, and tell him ALBUS IS COMING.

Scorpius gazed at the tubs of sweets, paralysed by choice. His eye was caught by the gummy worms, fizzy cola bottles, liquorice sticks, pear drops, bubblegum balls, strawberry shoelaces, sherbert lemons, flying saucers and chocolate raisins - although he wasn’t sure the latter quite counted as a sweet. 

Scorpius had very strong feelings on sweets, and one of those feelings was that he loved them, very much. He’d inherited his sweet tooth from his mum, and had countless memories throughout his childhood of visiting this very stall at the local Famer’s Market and choosing a bag to share with her as they wandered around. They were happy memories; coming here was one of Scorpius’s very favourite things to do, but today he couldn’t help but feel a bit sick - before he’d even eaten anything.

Today was different from all those other days. Today was the day before he went to Hogwarts for the very first time.

He was so nervous and so excited in equal measure that the two emotions had kind of curdled inside him, leaving him slightly nauseous and with a strange sort of hopeful dread. He’d been looking forwards to going to Hogwarts ever since he could read, and he’d held his breath more and more the closer he’d got to actually getting on the train - certain that some kind of tragedy would befall the castle, certain, almost, that he wouldn’t get to go.

But here he was - less than 24 hours since he had to be on Platform 9&¾ - and nothing bad had happened. Yet. He’d even managed to do all of his shopping on Diagon Alley without having a panic attack, and now all that was left to do was some last minute packing, and choose the sweets he wanted to take on the journey.

“Sweets! They’ll help you make friends, Scorpius!” his mum had said earlier that morning, squeezing his shoulder and grinning at him, her eyes glinting with pride and excitement.

Scorpius had just nodded and smiled back, unable to turn down the offer of sweets or disappoint his mum - but secretly, he suspected that it’d take a lot more than a shared bon-bon to get someone to make friends with him.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew who he was, and knew was his name had once meant (and what it still meant amongst certain witches and wizards.) He wasn’t naive enough to think that the Malfoys had been totally forgiven for their allegiance in the wizarding wars, despite believing in his heart that his dad was a good man, and knowing how hard he’d worked to change his reputation.

He also wasn’t naive enough to expect the other students would fall over themselves to be friends with him, Scorpius Malfoy, even though he personally wasn’t even born back when Dad was a Death Eater - family grudges in the wizarding world ran deep, and continued for generations. He’d even wondered, in his darkest ponderings, how many parents would actually warn their kids off him, even order them to stay away from “that strange Malfoy boy.”

Scorpius had had a happy childhood, with everything he wanted - except a real friend. Being an only child, and living so far away from any wizarding families who willingly associated with Malfoys, had meant that Scorpius had grown up with his mum and dad as both his companions and his parents. When he was younger, he’d gone through a phase of making up invisible friends - but he was far too old for that now, even if deep down, he was half tempted to conjure up someone to ride the train with him tomorrow.

Realising he’d been staring at the sweet stall for far too long without saying anything, Scorpius snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to look up at Astoria, who was chatting to the stall owner like she did every time they came.

“Mum? Mum? Can I have, er…. one of everything?”

Astoria broke off her conversation, looking down at her son with a cheeky smile. 

“Go on then. It is a special occasion, after all.”

Scorpius’s eyes widened; as nervous as he might be about going to Hogwarts, he couldn’t wait to savour all of his favourite sweets - and more. 

As the stall owner started bagging everything up, Scorpius felt settled for the first time in days. If the sweets helped him make a friend, well, that was his biggest dream come true. And if they didn’t? He’d have the biggest bag of treats he’d ever had in life, and he’d get to eat them all by himself. 

It was a win-win situation really.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on instagram @roonil_b_wazlib or on tumblr by searching "roonilbwazlib" :)


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